


Altruism

by the_ragnarok



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Babies, Child Abandonment, Gen, Genderqueer Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pronouns, she keeps for now: for some of her aliases - Egret, for one, or Patridge - being called <i>she</i> would rankle, but Finch couldn't care less. Neither does Wren: flexibility is important to Harold in alias she has to stay in for any length of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Altruism

The morning's appointment is marked in puce, which means certain preparations must be taken.

It's a precarious liminal space, between the suits of yesterday and today's conservative dress. Not black: Susan Heron is as fond of color as Harold Finch is, so she puts on a burgundy dress with muted dark gold trimming, pulls dark, thick stockings up her legs and puts on sensible shoes.

Styling her hair is a necessary annoyance, though the luxury of more jewelry than cufflinks and a tie pin makes up for it. She picks a necklace with care - platinum with a sapphire pendant offset by cubic zirkonia - and puts on the matching bracelet and earrings. She dabs the slightest hint of perfume over her wrists and behind her ears and sets off.

At the hospital, the nurse greets Susan with a smile. "Mrs. Heron, hi!"

Susan smiles back and doesn't correct her, although she is nobody's _Mrs_. "Hello, Sadie. Do you have any patients who'd like to see me?"

"You bet." Sadie leads her down the hall to a comfortably furnished room and leaves her there. The wall has a mural of frolicking Disney characters: a little garish for Susan's eyes, but then, she isn't the intended audience.

Sadie comes back in wheeling a transparent plastic hospital crib containing a newborn infant.

"Heavens," Susan says softly as she scoops the baby up. "They're so very small, it shakes me every time." The baby's onesie gapes, showing distressingly prominent ribs where one might have expected puppy fat. 

"She's pretty tall, actually," Sadie says. Her cheerful demeanor doesn't say much: Susan has seen her maintain it with charges who were desperately sick. "A little skinny, yeah, but she's gaining weight even now. Here," she hands Susan a bottle of formula just as the baby starts smacking her lips.

The baby takes the nipple with immensely satisfying greed, her small living weight indescribably precious to hold. "There you go," Susan tells her. "Grow big and strong."

Sadie has to leave, but Susan stays. The baby eats less than half the bottle before turning away. Susan burps her and cradles her, familiar with the proceedings.

If the baby had a name, Sadie would have told it to Susan. Sadie's charges are often nameless, abandoned at the hospital by parents who couldn't care for them. "You'll be snapped up for adoption, won't you," Susan tells the baby. "A healthy, lovely girl like you. You'll make someone very, very happy."

The time of Susan's appointment flies by. All too soon, Sadie is back with the wheeled crib. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Heron, seriously." She refuses all of Susan's attempts at deflection. "Did you know you're my steadiest volunteer?"

That is a surprise. "Do people find holding children for an hour so taxing?"

For once, Sadie's face takes a serious cast. "Need scares people," she says, matter of fact. "Even if all they have to do is cuddle a baby, it's intense to realize that this baby will literally die without what the physical affection. It freaks people out."

"I suppose." Susan frowns slightly, looking at the baby curling her tiny hands into fists. "Then again, all altruism is selfish, isn't it?"

Sadie laughs. "Girl, I barely slept last night, I'm not in the mood for philosophy." She darts close, hugs Susan, and walks away without a second thought.

It takes Susan another moment to catch her breath, shocked out of her by Sadie's sudden proximity. She walks out of the hospital slowly, deep in thought.

The rest of the day belongs to Finch. Susan goes back to the safehouse, becomes Harold again with a change of clothes and a tussling of hair. The pronouns, she keeps for now: for some of her aliases - Egret, for one, or Patridge - being called _she_ would rankle, but Finch couldn't care less. Neither does Wren: flexibility is important to Harold in alias she has to stay in for any length of time.

Even under the protection of a three piece suit, the warmth lingers, the impression of a tiny body, not so fragile as it seems. All human beings need intimacy, and some have more venues of supplying that need than others. That's all there is to it.


End file.
